


What If

by theonsfavouritetoy



Series: Droughtjoy 2017 [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Droughtjoy 2017, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 23:57:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11885577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonsfavouritetoy/pseuds/theonsfavouritetoy
Summary: Theon can't sleep. Davos wants to talk.





	What If

**Author's Note:**

> This is another story for Droughjoy 2017, combined from a few different prompts by  
> @janiedean, @misa04 and @scribe-n-scribbles  
> I hope I don't botch it up!

Theon doesn't want to sleep anymore. He just can't. The dreams will come back and he can't stand it. He'd rather have Jon Snow's fist knock him into oblivion, rather than ever go to sleep again.  
So he pretends to be asleep until Jon is snoring in his chair.  
He steals out of the room and into the dark halls and corridors of Dragonstone. He doesn't know the castle very well, but he means to get lost, so he's not paying attention to where his feet are carrying him.

He's now somewhere he doesn't ever remember being, when he sees a light coming from one of the chambers at the end of the hall he's walking just now.  
When he enters, he's surprised to find the Onion Knight sitting on a small bed, small enough for a child.  
In his hands he's cradling something small and black.  
He looks up, startled.

"Ah, it's you, lad. Can't sleep?"  
"No, Ser, not very well."  
"Where's the king?"

The king..? Theon cannot get used to this term referring to Jon now. Jon Snow, bastard of Ned Stark, Lord of Winterfell and King in the North. It hurts.  
"Asleep."

"Good."  
Davos gets up and Theon stiffens. But the old man just wanders over to a table, where he's taking a big jug, pouring some of its content into a cup and offering it to Theon.  
Theon stares at him with wide eyes.

"What's wrong? Don't look so frightened, lad, I'm not going to poison you. It's just ale."

Theon still hesitates. He cannot think of anyone offering him a drink in a long time, besides Yara. The thought stings.  
Ser Davos sighs and places the cup on the table, retreating onto the small bed.

"I wonder what you went through, lad, when the smallest gesture frightens you into rigor. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I just thought, seeing as we're both not sleeping, we could talk a bit. Get to know each other."

Theon inches closer to the table, unsure as he reaches for the cup. Ser Davos looks at his hands, and he frowns at the sight, but he doesn't look disgusted like everyone else.  
Theon remembers their greeting on the beach. Ah. 

"Where did you lose yours? Got caught smuggling or pirating? You're an Ironborn after all, always reaving and reaping, no?"  
But the words have no nastiness in them, he just sounds politely interested. 

So Theon tells him. Before he knows what's happening to him, he's sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, telling Davos most of his story.  
How he was shipped away from Pyke, how Ned Stark raised him, how he went to war with Robb, how he betrayed him, how Ramsay Bolton destroyed him, how his sister patched him up again, to the sorry creature he's now. Every thought of her is like a stab in the gut for Theon, but he can't stop.  
He even tells how he didn't save her, how he jumped ship, how Euron's laughter howled over the sea into which Theon was fleeing.  
And Ser Davos listens, he listens without interrupting once, he listens to all what he's done and had done to him, and still he doesn't look disgusted. 

Finally, Theon feels empty. He shuts up, a shiver running through his body. He's never told that much to anyone, not even Yara. Another thought, another pain.  
Ser Davos clears his throat. 

"Well, that would be enough to make anyone jumpy and fidgety. Glad that Bolton guy is dead, really am. And your sister, she sounds like quite the woman. I'd love to meet her one day."

Theon shakes his head.  
"I've sentenced her to death with my cowardice."  
A strangled whisper, but Ser Davos hears him all the same.  
He seems to get angry, he jumps up, a couple of steps, he seizes Theon's shoulders, shakes him.

"Are you that stupid, lad, do you not see? You've sentenced her to live! I've always said to my son, better a coward for a minute than dead for the rest of your life. Your cowardice saved her life!!

Theon's mouth falls open, he lets himself being rattled about, unable to form a clear thought.  
Ser Davos grows even more agitated, he knocks Theon on the forehead with the knuckles of his left hand. 

"Wake up, you stupid boy, see things how they are! What would have happened, if you had charged at your uncle? What if??"

Theon tries to think, he tries to give the right answer, but his brain is a mess. Suddenly a scene, as clear as if it had really happened, stands before his eyes.  
He sees himself charging at Euron, sees his sister's head fall back, sees the red blooming at her throat, hears Euron's insane laughter, feels Euron's axe coming down on him.

Theon swallows.  
"He would've killed her the second I'd taken the first step. And he would've killed me."  
Davos looks nearly proud.  
"There you go. Always think, what if. It can help. It helps me when I... when I'm brooding too much."

And Theon looks over at the small bed, at the little black thing sitting there, and suddenly he's curious about Davos' What Ifs.


End file.
